


only my hands belong on your body

by sweaterlou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, Incest, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, mentions of non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterlou/pseuds/sweaterlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sam comes home one day, beaten and bloody. dean finds out a group of guys tried to touch his baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only my hands belong on your body

**Author's Note:**

> au: aye lmao first wincest in a while!!! i didnt even plan on writing this it just kinda happened dang anyways i think im going to write atleast another chapter with hurt/comfort sex or i might write more chapters or maybe itll just be this one i dont know yet but yeah!!! this one is for all the wincest shippers that love protective!dean mmm luvs yall
> 
> tumblr: hangonsherlock OR mostly likely dannyandross mwah

Dean was sitting in the kitchen, drinking a beer half naked with the summer’s heat dripping down his back when Sam came barging through the front door.

His hair was a mess and his face was spotted with black and blue welts. A small trail of blood trailed now to his chin and dripped thickly onto his sweater. Dean was up and over to Sam in a matter of seconds with his hands moving softly over his face. 

“Jesus, Sammy, what the hell happen?” he barked bitterly. His fingers ran over his brother’s lips where blood welled up, making Sam wince. His blood coiled around his heart and he didn’t know if he wanted to go find the fucker who did this to his baby brother or just hold Sam in his arms. He knew what was best. Calm Sam down first, beat fucker up later. 

“Just a buncha upperclass guys. Was on my way home when they saw me.” his voice trembled in his throat and his eyes were getting redder.

“Fuck.” Dean hissed. He grabbed ahold of Sam’s sweater and pulled him softly to the kitchen. He sat him down in the chair he was just in and started searching through the cabinets for their first aid kit. Sam dropped his bag on the floor and placed his elbows on the table, leaning his head into his hands. 

“Okay, the last time we used it was when dad got that knife in his leg in Arizona. That was only two weeks ago, so that means I would have put it.. here! Got it.” 

Dean pulled the small box from behind a pile of papers. He sat down at the other chair and pulled Sam’s hands away from his face. He gritted his teeth.

Images of Sam, his Sammy, on the ground with fists flying at his face popped up with his mind and he knew it could be so easy to go upstairs, get his .47 and find those punks. Gentle fingers gripped his own. He looked up and felt himself relax ever so slightly at Sam’s soft eyes. 

“It’s okay Dean.” he whispered. 

Dean shook his nod, but said nothing. He chewed at the inside of his lips as he opened the kit and pulled out ointment and bandages. Luckily, he didn’t have to stitch any part of Sam’s face. If he had to, he was sure he wouldn’t be as calm as he was. He stayed silent as he wiped the blood away from Sam’s cuts, biting at the inside of his cheek when Sam let out quiet whimpers. The ointment was better, relieving the pain and leaving Sam with softer eyes. Dean carefully bandaged the large cuts; only on his chin and cheekbone. When he was done, Sam looked like a worn pair of jeans, patches lining his face. 

“All done Sammy.” he mumbled, voice coming out rough. He cleared his throat and scrunched up his nose as the taste of copper touch his tongue. The inside of his cheek was bleeding. Atleast I controlled myself, he thought to himself. He closed the kit and set it on the counter behind him. 

Sam touched his face carefully and looked down at the floor, then back up at Dean. 

“Not completely.” he whispered. Dean raised his eyebrow, and opened his mouth to question when Sam straightened his back and winced, grabbing at his side. That’s all Dean had to know. All his muscles tensed and he stood up to walk to the front door. Sam’s hand wrapped around his wrist. Dean looked down, eyes wide and fists shaking. Sam gripped tighter and his lips wavered. 

“Forget them, Dean. Just take care of me, please. Please.” 

Dean felt blind fury buzzing through his body, but he closed his eyes and pushed it down, down until he didn’t see red anymore. He opened his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. He pieced himself together before he talked. 

“Always. Always, Sammy.” 

He kneeled to the floor, eye level with Sam. He placed his palms on his jeans carefully. His fingers played with the bottom of Sam’s Stanford sweater.

“Off.” he said through a thick throat. Sam nodded and slowly tugged it off, movements slow with pain. He never wore shirts under sweaters, because it was summer and he only wore one because his classrooms were always freezing.

So Dean was presented with his brother’s torso, which was usually smooth and unblemished from the stupid oils he used in the shower, covered with deep colored welts outlined with green. Bile rose in Dean’s throat. He reached out slowly and traced the circles slowly. Sam’s breathing was hard, his chest rising up and down with his lungs. Dean looked up and saw Sam’s eyes looking down. 

“Hey.” he whispered. Sam looked up and Dean wanted to kill every single bastard who ever touched Sammy before when he saw wet lines falling down his cut up face. 

“God, Sammy.” 

He brought his arms up and hooked them around Sam’s neck, pulling him close. Sam’s hand flew to Dean’s arms and gripped hard as he sobs racked through his body. 

Dean smoothed down the back of Sam’s hair and shushed him, heart breaking with every gasp coming from Sam’s mouth. 

“T-they.. they tried, Dean. They tried and I kicked them and told them I’d kill them, that y-you’d kill them, that dad would too but they wouldn’t stop. One got their hands down my pants, and t-then one put their hand on my mouth but I bit him. He started bleeding a-and yelling and the others got distracted and I got away. Oh god, Dean.” he sobbed, breath coming faster and faster. 

Dean felt his whole world flip, his head spinning.

Someone tried to touch Sam.

Sammy.

His Sammy. 

He felt every part of himself fall apart. 

He framed Sam’s face in his hands as his own tears fell hotly. 

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me in the first place Sam? Fucking christ baby.” he sobbed. Sam looked up and covered his mouth when he saw the state of his brother. Dean shook him lightly, trying to regain his attention.

“Answer me for fucks sake Sammy!”

“I thought you would look at me different!” he suddenly yelled, echoing through the small kitchen. It went silent. Dean’s eyes widened and if it was possible, even more of his heart broke. 

“Sammy.” his voice cracked. Sam’s chest heaved as he tried to get his breathing back. Dean’s eyes stung watching him. He cupped his jaw and pressed their foreheads together, pulling back enough so their eyes were locked. 

“Never. Never would I look at you different, baby. Never.” he whispered. Sam nodded slightly and let out a shuddering breath. Dean wiped his tears away with his thumb and kissed the underside of both of his eyes. His forehead. His nose. His cheeks. His jaw. The corner of his lips. He finally planted his lips firmly on Sam’s, inhaling deeply. Sam sighed and touched Dean’s face with shaking hands. They kissed softly, slow and with meaning. When Dean pulled back, he realized Sam was breathing normally. Sam gave a small smile behind kiss swollen lips. Dean kissed him softly again. 

“They’re lucky they didn’t get to touch you.” Dean said, pulling away from Sam’s lips, “I would have been arrested if the police found out what I did to them.”

Sam gave a breathy laugh. 

“I love you.” he said, words only meant for them. Dean nodded and rubbed Sam’s wrist between his fingers.

“Love you too baby boy. Let’s go get you fixed up.”


End file.
